


The Ultimate Coffee Shop AU

by RunWithWolves



Series: 25 Days of Sweetheart [13]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12598040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: Laura may work at a coffee shop but that doesn't mean she's any good at making coffee, she leaves that to her shift partner Carmilla. Laura's more interested in helping all of their customers fall in love by creating each one of them their own coffee shop au. Whether that means delivering them the wrong drink, spilling water, or literally shoving potential couples into each other, Laura is bringing her coffee shop au dreams to life. If there's a potential match, Laura will spot it.The fact that she goes breathless every time Carmilla gets too close is just a coincidence.





	The Ultimate Coffee Shop AU

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes i just want to write overly-long fluffy things for me, okay? :)
> 
> also after the slight mis-step of last series's attempt at second person we're giving that another go. think we fixed a few of the flaws.

When the customer gives an order, you don’t actually know what they’re asking for. So you smile sweetly, nod vigorously, and then scamper off to the back of the coffee shop where Carmilla is pretending to count stock but is really lounging in the bags of coffee beans. 

She sighs as you enter, “Laura. Don’t tell me someone dared to ask for something more complicated than plain coffee?”

“I can make latte’s now!” you object.

Carmillas snorts, “You can make something, cupcake. I wouldn’t call it an actual latte. People are just enamoured by your cuteness and afraid to tell you you’re wrong lest you curse them to a loveless life.”

Your nose scrunches, “Just help me! Please!”

She rises to her feet at a glacial pace, “What did they ask for?”

“Um,” you pause, “An Icy American?”

There’s a twitch at the corner of Carmilla’s mouth that she tries to hide behind an eye roll but you catch anyway, “Iced Caffe Americano?”

“That’s the one!”

You back up to let her walk by but the hallway is tight and she still manages to get right in your space. Eyes roving as she pauses an inch from your face, “It’s a miracle you ever got this job.”

You go breathless.

If a walk as short as the shop to the back room is tiring you out then you really need to start exercising more.

There’s nothing you can say so you just follow Carmilla back into the main room. The shop is a cozy space lined with books and warm colours that makes it feel like perpetual autumn. The stars painted on the ceiling twinkle as ivy creeps up the exposed stone walls, inviting the dozen or so customers to simply relax. You avoid the coffee machine at all costs, heading to the oven to check on your baking cookies. 

You can handle cookies.

The fact that you work in a coffee shop does not mean that you are good at making coffee. You don’t even drink the stuff. You’re straight up terrible at making coffee and it’s Carmilla’s favourite thing to tease you about as she makes a whipped frothy machieto frappocino latte expresso grande chocolate sauce coffee thing like it’s the easiest task in the world. 

She will never ever let you forget how you managed to explode the coffee machine on your first day and she had to come in, on her day off, to save you because no-one else knew how to fix it.

You’d been paired with her ever since. 

Carmilla’s a coffee wizard. You’re not. Fine.

You’re good at other things. More specifically, creating coffee shop aus. The world may not have been a story but working in a coffee shop was an opportunity not to be missed. The same crowd, the same customers. All it took was a nudge here or a wiggle there and you could bring the most stereotypical coffee shop au to life like reality was nothing more than a fanfic. 

Speaking of which, as you pull your cookies from the oven you eye Lafontaine where they’re sitting in the corner with their laptop. Laf’s one of your favourite customers and, besides Carmilla, the science wiz is one of the most consistent pieces of your shifts. They note your eye and lift their cup, a silent request for a new one. You nod. Then grin when they look away. You’re playing the slow game with them because you really think this one could work.

“Carm?” you call.

“What now?” she reaches around you to snag a fresh cookie and your skin heats up as she leans into your shoulder.

Must be the oven.

You lightly smack her hand, “Those are hot. Wait.”

“Boo.”

You agree, the cookies look tempting and smell amazing, but you’ve got a plan, “I need you to accidentally give Laf’s refill to Perry while I bring Perry’s order to Laf.”

Sliding the customer his Icy American, Carmilla frowns, “Is this another one of those matchmaking things, cupcake? Because I’m not sure how I feel about Perry and Laf. I think your romance radar is malfunctioning.”

You wave her off and begin to write Laf and Perry’s names on their respective cups, “Trust me, Carm. I’m like the coffee shop au wizard. If there’s a good match, any good match, I’ll notice it right away. I may not have gone to Hogwarts but this is my secret power. This’ll be a great one.”

Carmilla eyeballs you and your skin gets hot from the oven all over again.

Then she sighs, shakes her head, and snatches the cups.

“Thank you!” you call after her.

She grumbles in reply and you practically snatch Perry’s coffee from her hands, heading off between the tables. Like clockwork, the shop bell goes off and Perry walks in the door. You eye the interaction from the corner of your eye. Carmilla meets your gaze for a moment and you try and make your pout as big as possible. It turns into a grin when she gives Perry the cup labeled “Laf” with a little microscope drawn on the side.

Your turn. 

You grab Laf’s old cup and gently place the new cup in it’s place, turning the “Perry” away from Laf’s view. “Thanks, frosh,” they say distractedly, not looking up from their work. 

“No problem!”

Your voice might have been too cheery but you scurry back behind the counter, nearly squealing, and grab Carmilla’s arm as you try to keep an eye on both Laf and Perry, “Thank you!”

“There’s no way this’ll work, cupcake.”

You pass her a cookie before she can ask and start nibbling your own. She leans onto the back counter beside you, an inch of space between you. Weird that you even noticed the distance. Your skin feels a little cool and you frown, trying to find the breeze in the coffee shop. 

All the windows look like they’re closed as the small fireplace flickers on the other side of the shop.

Then Perry takes a sip from her coffee and your head whips over to her. Her face goes through a flurry of emotions before she reluctantly swallows the liquid, unwilling to spit out the nearly black coffee with a weird amount of black cherry syrup. Laf claims that it’s perfect for brain power.

You just think it’s really gross.

Carmilla thinks it’s funny to slip it into your mug when you’re not looking.

Your skin feels cool again and you still can’t find the breeze. So you lean against Carmilla’s arm and your skin warms instantly. She starts slightly then slowly relaxes, leaning against you.

She smells like coffee. Then again, literally everything here does.

It’s nice.

The being warm that is.

Perry begins to get up, no doubt to politely tell Carmilla that she messed up the order, when Laf finally picks up the coffee and takes a sip. They immediately shake their head and put the cup down like it’s poison.

“Hollis!” They shout across the shop, “Why have you tried to make me overdose on sugar? What was that? Caramel? Tell Karnstein that her seduction eyes are only tolerable when she continues to make high quality coffee.”

You have half a second to wonder about the ‘seduction eyes’ comment before you’re distracted by Perry turning towards Laf. At Laf’s volume, you have no doubt that the entire shop heard them.

“Did you say caramel?” Perry asks.

“Um yeah,” Laf looks over and you don’t miss the way their eyes widen as they go just a little pale, “I mean, I’m no expert in beverage flavours but I think this is caramel.” They hold up the cup.

“Oh! That’s my name!” Perry scurries over to them as they twist the cup around. “And,” she adds, looking at her own cup, “This must be yours. Laf?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Short for Lafontaine. They/them. Resident tired graduate student trying to make it through this PhD.” They laugh and rub the back of their neck, “Too tired to check the name apparently.”

“Well,” Perry carefully swaps their cups, detaching the lids and putting them on the right coffee, “Laura and Carmilla should be more careful about handing out orders.”

A grin breaks over Laf’s face, “I think they might be a little distracted.”

When they both turn to look at the counter you practically divebomb towards the coffee machine, yanking Carmilla after you like you both weren’t staring. She separates from your arm in the chaos and you mourn the loss of warmth. 

“Geez,” she says, “Calm down there cupid.”

“It has to be organic,” you hiss, “they can’t know that I set it up. That would defeat the entire purpose of the exercise. These things happen in their own time. It’s just that most people can’t see them, I can. So I just help them along. No-one can know!”

“I know,” she points out.

“Well yeah,” you say, “you’re you. We’re partners in crime. You’re different than everyone else. You’re. Well. Carm. You’re mine.” You frown, wondering where that word came from, “You’re on my team to help them. Cupids-in-crime.” You clarify 

Carmilla stares at you for a moment with a look you can’t decipher then she looks away and rubs her shoulder, “So you decided to yank out my arm and stare at a coffee machine instead?” Her cheeks are flushed with colour, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. There’s a single strand escaping and you debate brushing it back behind her ear.

Her skin is probably really soft.

You should ask about her moisturizing routine.

You shake your head, “We have to look like we’re doing something. Teach me how to use this thing?”

“I don’t have a death wish, cupcake.”

“I can’t break it if you’re watching literally everything I do.”

“Please,” Carmilla raises an eyebrow, “you’ve done many things that I thought were impossible.”

You huff. “Fine. We’ll do it together.” You grab her hand and slap it on top of yours so that it’s completely covering your own. The action brings her around her. Front to your back and her chin hovering just over your shoulder.

The breeze, whatever it was, disappears entirely and you have to wonder what’s wrong with the temperature in this place because your entire body is on fire. “Alright,” your words come out shaky for some reason, “show me how to use this thing.”

Carmilla doesn’t say a word but you can feel every move she makes. Every flex of her muscles and quiver of her skin. Every swallow in her throat as she guides your hand from one lever to the next. 

For a moment, you almost think you can feel her heartbeat against your back but brush it off. Nothing that fast could be a heartbeat. 

When she steps away to grab the finished product, your body goes cold again. It warms up a little when you turn to see Laf looking at Perry’s name on their coffee mug, a small smile on their face. 

It warms up even more when Carmilla laughs as you practically jump for joy at the successful Icy American she offers you. 

#

While you’re moving slow on the Perry and Laf situation, there are others that don’t require as delicate a touch. Kirsch is an easy one. The dudebro has been coming by the coffee shop after every practice to get an Iced Thing With a Shot of Something that Sounds like Alcohol but Carmilla will probably just laugh at you if you ask for clarification.

He’s big and oblivious but very sweet, always gathering up any garbage around him so that his “coffee nerd bros” don’t have to pick up after “inconsiderate dudes”. You’ve taken to switching the coffee shop playlist to country music every time he comes in because Kirsch loves singing under his breath to it.

Carmilla hates it, always huffing and taking a nap in the backroom to avoid the music. Sometimes, you switch it when you know she hasn’t been getting enough sleep. There’s something adorable about waking her up when she’s snoring, curled up on the coffee bean bags with her apron bunched in her arms like a blanket. When you brush her hair from her face, she makes a little grumbly “no” that makes you smile. Then, if you tap her on the nose, her eyes flicker open. It’s cute.

Sleeping people are always cute.

It was during one of Carmilla’s naps that you’d noticed Kirsch wasn’t the only one who’d hum along to the music. And the plan had been hatched. 

You’ve just been waiting for him and Sarah Jane to end up in the shop at the same time.

As soon as they do, you switch the station. Carmilla gives you a look and heads over to the back room but you reach out and grab her arm. She stops instantly, “You better have a good reason for turning this nonsense on.”

You grin and pull her back towards the shop, “You’re going to want to see this.” 

Sarah Jane starts first, humming softly as she twirls her pen in the air to the beat. 

It takes a moment longer, but when Kirsch starts, he goes to full on singing. Mumbling the words under his breath. The verse fades out and you hold your breath, waiting for the catchy twang of the chorus.

Catchy enough that Sarah Jane slips from humming to singing for a few key lines. 

Kirsch’s head goes up like a hawk, eyes wide and a huge grin. He sings the next line a little louder, catching Sarah Jane’s attention. Her own yes light up.

By the time the song reaches it’s last chorus, they’re standing up and singing alternating lines. 

You can’t help it, singing alone to the words. Carmilla rolls her eyes but that doesn’t hide her smile and, when you pull her into a dosey-do, she doesn’t resist.

Betty and Natalie are your next targets and you’re lucky enough that they’re the only ones in the shop. As soon as all the other customers leave, you strike. Carmilla has the last brownie and you snag her entire plate before she can take a bite.

“Hey!” she objects as you fly by.

“Need it! True love! Sorry!” You call.

You stop roughly in the middle of their two separate tables, “Hey guys,” you get their attention, “we have this leftover brownie and we’d just have to throw it out before we close for the night. I was wondering if you two wanted to split it?”

You hold up two forks. 

They accept. Of course they do. It’s a brownie. Who can say no to brownies? By the time you get back to the counter, they’re at the same table with the brownie between them. 

Carmilla is sulking, her pout pulling on your chest, “I was eating that.”

“I needed it.” You point to where the two girls are talking, “Coffee shop au, Carm!”

She sulks for a few minutes longer then sighs, “You’re lucky you’re cute. I suppose, for true love, I can just have whatever I can find in the cupboards at home.”

You look over at the display, everything else gone after a busy day of customers. Except for your cookie, very carefully preserved to be your sweet treat as you biked home. You’ve lied to customers before that you were out before giving away that cookie. 

But as you watch Carmilla start to clean the coffee machine, your chest aches a little.

You’ve never had heartburn before.

You break the cookie in half and grin at her surprised face. Then you shove the entire half in her mouth at once as she blinks, mouth full of cookie and hands covered in coffee grinds.

The coffee shop au stories continue. There’s the classic coffee shop au, the accidental spill, that you perform on the next Thursday as you ‘accidentally’ knock into a smiling guy so that he drops his cup of ‘anything that’s not going to scald someone’ onto a shy looking girl in the corner. 

He apologizes profusely, turning beet red. You also apologize and offer them both something on the house. Then, as you rush off to get their free drinks, tell the guy to get the girl some napkins. When you deliver the free drinks, they’re talking animatedly.

Works every time.

“Those ‘free’ drinks are coming of your paycheck,” Carmilla tells you as she passes you the drinks.

You shrug, “All in the name of true love.”

The charges never show up.

Mel and Elsie both get the “Congratulations, you both won a contest for a free piece of pie that i definitely didn’t just make up. Here. Eat it together.” trick to set them up. 

A variant on the Accidental Spill was the literal knock-over which you use the next time Danny comes in because you know that Danny is very good at catching things. With an intricate set of ‘reserved signs’ that Carmilla laughs at before stealing to fix because “your handwriting is atrocious, cupcake”, you manage to finagle Danny into sitting in the seat right by the main aisle.

Then you wait. You dislike every third wednesday for one very specific reason; Carmilla always looks sad. Not in the longing sort of way but in the old pain kind of way. Understandable when her ex-girlfriend always came in on her way to study group. So, as you wait, you literally do not stop talking. You just keep talking in an effort to keep Carmilla’s shoulders from tensing and her face from dropping.

She’s laughing at your Doctor Who theory when Ell walks in. You beat Carmilla to the counter, taking the order and making it off of the instructions that you’d written on your hand the night before so that Carmilla wouldn’t have to do this at all.

If Ell can’t talk to Carmilla then she has less opportunity to make her sad.

If Ell can’t talk to Carmilla then she has less opportunity to flirt with her. You couldn’t prove it but you had this theory that, even though Ell had dumped her, Ell regretted it. You just want to save Carmilla from a girl who was obviously no good for her.

That was all.

Totally. Being a good cupid-in-crime. 

It’s not a perfect drink but it’s good enough that Ell accepts it, not noticing that you intentionally forgot the sprinkles. That just gives you the chance to dart after her and ‘accidentally’ knock her over, straight into Danny’s lap.

The result is anything but straight. Both girls turning bright red. When you bring Ell her replacement coffee, you can already see your work is done by the dopey look on Danny’s face and hidden smile on Ell’s.

Love has been set up in perfect au style.

Carmilla has been saved.

As you walk back behind the counter, she catches you by the shoulder and doesn’t let go. You wait for her to say something about the new couple but instead, she slowly takes your hand in her own and raises it to eye-height to examine the marker written over the back. Her touch is careful, gentle, soft.

“This Ell’s coffee order.”

You nod, not exactly sure what to say here. 

“And you’ve been extra talkative today,” Carmilla adds, “which I didn’t think was possible.”

“She makes you sad.” You offer the only explanation you can give and it still feels incomplete. Like there’s something obvious just under the surface that you’re somehow missing. 

It’s still enough to make Carmilla slacken even if her hands grip your just a little tighter. Then, a miracle happens.

Carmilla hugs you. Of her own free will. She hugs you.

If you thought the temperature was off before, it’s gone haywire now. Your entire body is warm, somehow both a raging inferno and a gentle sunbeam on your skin. As she folds around her, you find a new scent under the coffee. One that whispers of leather bound books and pine trees. 

Caught by surprise, you barely manage to hug her back before someone in the shop lets out a wolf whistle and Carmilla jumps back like she’s been burned. She spins to the coffee machine, her back towards you. A blush on her cheeks before she hides it behind her hair.

When you turn to glare at the whistler, you find Laf laughing at you.

Your face scrunches and you stick out your tongue. Better turn up the timeline on getting them with Perry. That will give you some real ammo. Before putting the new LaFerry plan into action, you bump Carmilla gently with your hip. Voice soft, “Look at that, you are capable of hugs! I was getting worried that I’d have to teach you how. Turns out there was a softie inside you all along.”

“It’s a one time thing, cupcake.” Carmilla says.

You just grin, “Well, if you ever change your mind. I’d love to see secret softie Carm again.”

You call it a victory when she rolls her eyes but the smile is back on her face. 

It takes 3 days before you can pull off LaFerry: Round 2. A name that Carmilla openly laughs at. The mirth is still flickering in her eyes as you approach customers and ask them to please move to another table. You don’t know whether it’s the apron or the gods of love on your side but every single one of them moves.

Although you do wonder why they keep looking over your shoulder and paling. When you’d turned around, there’d been nothing there but Carmilla smirking at you.

Regardless, the only two tables left are both ones with outlet plugs. When Laf comes in, they immediately plug in their laptop and start working. You corral the next person who comes in into sitting at the other table then proceed to keep it full throughout the day. 

“Alright,” you pass Carmilla a customer order that says Salty Light Cino and glance down at your LaFerry checklist, “Laf’s laptop only has a 2 hour charge because it’s so old but they refuse to replace it. I’m going to need you to cut the power to that outlet at exactly 1:35.”

Carmilla finishes the drink and calls out, “Salted Caramel Mocha Light Frappaccino.” Then looks at you, “how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“You can handle that machine,” you point to the coffee maker, “you’re telling me you can’t handle a power outlet?”

Carmilla pauses. Her jaw clenched even as she takes the next order from you. “Well, I’d have to go in the basement and I’d really prefer to not do that.”

“Oh.” You’d discovered Carmilla’s fear of the dark when the two of you had been cleaning up after a shift and the power had gone out. After securing a flashlight, you’d found Carmilla trembling in the pitch black of the back room. “Yeah. Okay. Don’t do that. Just tell me what to do and I’ll go do it.”

You find yourself in the creepy dark basement at 1:32 with a map and a hoard of boxes around you. The basement is creepy. Lights flickering and concrete everywhere. It’s easy enough to find the breaker box and flip the switch. Carmilla had assured you that breaker wasn’t attached to anywhere else upstairs.

What she’d failed to mention was that it was definitely attached to the basement

The lights disappear, plunging the entire basement into darkness. Surprised, you jump and collide with a pile of boxes. Thrown entirely off balance with no way of seeing anything, you careen to the floor with a shriek that muffles as more boxes of paper cups and lids fall on top of you. They’re not heavy but your body smashing to the ground definitely makes an impact. 

“Laura!”

There’s a crashing noise and moments later, the boxes are pulled from your head as a flashlight shines in your face. Once you blink past the light, you make out Carmilla’s panicked face staring back at you. Reaching for you. Pulling you up and into her arms, “Laura. Laura.” she repeats, “Are you okay? What happened?”

You blink, “It got dark. I fell.”

Her hand nudges the back of your head to check for bumps and in the dim light most of your sensation has been reduced to feeling and sound. Her breath on your face. Her chest pressed tight to yours. The arm bracketing your waist.

She doesn’t let you go as you walk back up the stairs and you can’t tell if she’s holding you or you’re holding her as you navigate out of the dark basement. As soon as you hit the light of the shop, she’s checking you over again. A hand on the back of your head and another on your chin to check your pupils.

“I’m okay, Carm.” you say.

“You’re sure?”

You roll your eyes even though she can’t see it, “Positive. Although it was very chivalrous of you to come down there and save me.” You pretend to swoon in her arms and she catches you easily, “Slay the dragon and all that.”

“Well,” her voice drops into a register you didn’t know it could and you can literally feel your heart pump into over drive. Maybe you do have a concussion, “you know how it goes,” she continues, “I wouldn’t want to disappoint my wide-eyed maiden fair.”

Carmilla sticks close to you for the rest of the day and you’re so distracted with the closeness and the almost concussion that you nearly forget to rearrange the tables for Perry. Luckily you remember just in time and, when Laf’s laptop runs out of power, it’s only Perry’s table that they can move to for charging.

All you have to do to seal the deal is drop off one more coffee, pressing it into Perry’s hand as she’s leaving. You gives Perry a smile, “Trust me on this one.”

As Perry is Carmilla’s friend and you know her, you don’t feel bad about writing Laf’s number across the top.

You’re vindicated when you catches LaFerry kissing at their table three weeks later. Even better, your matchmaking success has Carmilla grudgingly agreeing that you’re a coffee shop au master.

“Just don’t let it go to your head, cupcake.” Carmilla says, “And don’t be getting any ideas about setting me up either.”

Where once had been joy, you find the words twists something in your stomach at the very idea. It would be easy enough, hot barista is a solid cliche, and yet you can’t find the will to even begin to plan it. 

Even when you spend the day watching the customers, you promptly decide that there’s no customer in the whole shop good enough for Carmilla Karnstein. After all, when she comes into work the day after her LaFerry victory, there’s a personalized gourmet hot chocolate waiting for you with a little cupcake drawn on the top.

If that’s how Carmilla treats her coworkers, it would take a very special girl to deserve to be her girlfriend. 

So you just laugh when Carmilla tells you that you have a hot chocolate moustache on your face and, when she leans in to wipe it off with her thumb, you account your sudden blush to the heat of the drink.

#

There was something wrong with the customers. You couldn’t put your finger on it exactly but there was something off with the vibe of the shop. Some kind of buzzing as though the patrons were waiting for something but as far as you knew, there was no event scheduled for today. 

You shrug and pass Carmilla another order, your fingers brushing hers. It was probably just because the shop was weirdly full. You hadn’t ever been this busy that you could remember. It was like every single regular customer had shown up at the same time.

“Carm,” you call, “does something about the shop seem weird today?”

“This is place is always weird.” She turns your ‘Emperor's New Groove Tea’ into a Emperor’s Clouds and Mist Green Tea, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I don’t know,” you frown, “Just something’s off.”

Carmilla eyes the crowd, “Probably because all of your little matchmaking schemes are here? It’s like the Laura Hollis Hall of Fame except weirdly romantic and a little gross.”

You turn and eye the crowd, making out more than half a dozen couples that you’ve set up over the past year. The sight of them makes you grin.

Carmilla rolls her eyes and elbows you in the side, “I can literally see you getting a big head. Try to deflate a little.”

“Just trying to match yours,” you grin.

She reaches around, pressing right against you, and taps your hot chocolate sitting in front of you, “I’ll be worried when you can actually make a decent hot beverage of any sort.” She steals the drink and takes a sip, smiling at your pout.

Then she has the nerve to boop you on the nose before chugging the remains of the drink as she grabs the next order you have waiting. 

When she brings it to the counter, she also slides you a fresh hot chocolate. “Softie,” you mumble around the cup.

“Only for you, cupcake.”

Before you can think that one through, Danny’s calling your name and you end up spending ten minutes helping her with some crossword puzzle. Every time you try to leave, she traps you with another word.

It’s easy to get distracted. You love crosswords and Danny knows it. 

You still notice when Perry calls Carmilla over to the bathroom, probably found something that wasn’t quite clean enough for her. 

When the crossword’s finally done, you pass Laf on your way back to the counter. 

“Just grabbed some straws!” they’re quick to say.

You shrug, “Sure. No problem.”

You’ve managed to start a batch of cookies by the time Carmilla comes back from the bathroom. There’s a strange humming noise coming from the coffee machine but Carmilla looks so wiped out that you don’t bother mentioning. 

You set the timer on the oven, “Everything okay in there?”

Carmilla grabs a cookie from the display and eyes it suspiciously, “Just Curly Sue being Curly Sue. It was one thing after another. Apparently our toilet paper is of an insufficient ply.”

“Truly tragic,” you deadpan. Then you take the cookie from her and toss it into the garbage, “And don’t eat that. It’s from this morning. I’ll have some fresh in a few.”

She tugs on your apron, “Well now. What would I do without you, cupcake? My world would truly be a little less sweet.”

Your feet follow her tug of their own accord as you brush cocoa powder from her shoulder, noting that Carmilla’s apparently refusing to wear her apron again, “Well,” you say, “we can’t have that now? Can we? You need all the sugar you can get to counteract that grumpy disposition.”

“I don’t think the cookies are ever going to be enough to counter that,” it might be your eyes but for a moment, it looks like Carmilla’s eyes drop to your lips. At the thought, your gaze finds her own lips and you find yourself wondering if they’re as soft as her thumbs where they’re brushing against the ticklish spot on the inside of your elbows. 

It’s like all sound has dropped from the coffee shop.

The bell rings as the doors open and you turn to face the counter and the new customer. His order is complicated and you don’t have much time to pay attention but you’re pretty sure you see Betty scowl and Danny facepalm. 

Maybe everyone needs a little more sugar today.

Once the customer clears out, you eye the timer on the oven. Five minutes on the cookies. You prep a small plate with a colourful napkin to set one aside for Carmilla but frown when you notice her empty coffee mug. The black one shaped like a cat that you’d gotten her for Christmas last year because you’d thought it was so funny.

Carmilla had said that there wasn’t enough sweetness in her life. 

When you turn to find her talking with Sarah Jane and Kirsch, it makes your decision for you. You grab her mug, take a deep breath, and face the dreaded coffee machine.

You can totally do this.

For Carmilla. One of the sweet lattes she pretends not to like but you’ve seen her secretly sipping. You twist a lever and pull another column, grinning when a spray of chocolate hits the mug. You turn to celebrate your victory with a thumbs up to Danny. Instead, you find Laf waving their arms and trying to catch someone’s attention. They stop as soon as you look at them.

You frown.

They give you a thumbs up.

Shrugging, you return to the coffee machine and pull another three levers in quick succession. You’ve totally got this. The machine starts smoking.

Maybe not.

You tentatively try a different lever.

The machine starts hissing.

“Carmilla!” Laf’s shout crashes through the shop, “Laura’s going to blow us all up.”

You’ve never seen Carmilla turn so fast and she’s at your side a moment later. 

“I think I made it angry,” you whisper.

She frantically starts hitting buttons on the display. You’d forgotten about the display. “What are you trying to do here, cupcake? I thought you hated this thing.”

“Nothing. I was doing nothing. Totally nothing at all.” You say.

She gives you a look that’s only broken by a beeping on the machine. She goes back to punching buttons, even pulling the plug to no avail.

You cave at her look of panic, “I was trying to make you a coffee to go with your cookie so that you’d have more sweetness in your life.”

It sounds really corny when you say it outloud but Carmilla’s hands freeze on the machine and the look she gives you is pure softness.

“Laura, you’re-.”

The machine explodes and Carmilla hits you a moment before the hot steam would have, practically bodychecking you to the floor but twisting just enough that you land on top of her instead of the hard floor. Clasped tight in her arms. 

She saved you from the steam but there’s nothing she can do about the flood of lukewarm coffee that drenches you both.

You lay on Carmilla’s chest, pressed together, dripping, and covered in coffee. Her hands are tight on your shirt, eyes flickering open as little rivers of coffee trickle off her face. 

That’s when it hits you. Like an arrow and a bodycheck and a whisper and warm arm pressed tight to yours. The tightness in your chest when she smiles makes sense. The lightness in your body as soon as she shows up for her shift. The warmness in your skin when she’s close and the breathlessness in your lungs when she says your name. 

Somewhere, somehow, without noticing, you fell in love with Carmilla Karnstein. The coffee-soaked girl blinking up at you as you both lay in a literal flood of coffee. 

You kiss her. 

You kiss her and it tastes like coffee. You kiss her soft and slow like the way you sip hot chocolate on a lazy Tuesday afternoon as Carmilla draws you pictures in the foam. 

Best of all, she kisses you back. A hand in your coffee-wet hair as the other pulls you just a little closer. 

You break the kiss just enough to press your forehead to hers and brush the tip of her nose with your own. Just looking at her, processing all the feeling living inside your chest that has finally broken free. Your words are a whisper meant for her alone, “You’re my coffee shop au.”

She looks at you for a moment. Just looks. Then a smile breaks over her face and she’s laughing. It doesn’t stop her from pulling you in to kiss you again. The smiles you’re both wearing making it more pressing your smiling lips together than actual kissing.

You don’t care. 

Quick pecks or slow kisses or full make-out sessions. You’ve got time for them all. 

Brushing coffee from her face, you manage to get up without letting her get too far away. Hand linked in hers as you lean in for one more quick peck.

The shop explodes with whistles and cheers and you blush, hiding in Carmilla’s shoulder. It’s Laf who gives it away, “I can’t believe, after months of tying, it took us literally blowing up the coffee machine to get the two of you to finally get together.”

Your jaw drops, “But I was trying to get you all together.”

“And you did,” Danny says, “we wanted to return the favour.”

You squint at them all, jaw tensing. The tension dies as Carmilla pulls you back in, “Murder them later, cupcake.”

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you ask, “Oh? And what should I be doing now then.”

“I can think of a few things.”

She kisses you again.

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff just makes me haaaaaappy.
> 
> We've officially hit the midpoint of this thing, cupcakes! Thank you so much for embracing the first half of these stories with your kudos, comments, [ and tumblr flails. ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) When I started story one, I never dreamed of finding such a wonderful group of humans that would make this whole thing possible. You're just the best. 
> 
> Stay stupendous. aria


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